The Hearing
by Snowsie2011
Summary: Martin is faced with a disciplinary hearing and Louisa's departure for Spain. How will he cope? Set at the end of series 6.
1. Chapter 1

This story is set at the end of Series 6.

The Hearing

Chapter 1

They sat in a row, like vultures waiting for a kill.

He entered the room and they fell silent, the echoes of their chatter dying in the far recesses of the room. Three men, name tags clipped to their suit jackets, gazed at the newcomer with a mix of curiosity, pity and contempt. He took no notice as he made his way to the one unoccupied chair in the room. He'd never cared what his colleagues thought of him, and he wasn't about to start caring now.

The room he found himself in was utilitarian, with chipped furniture and rug that dated back to the Thatcher era. There was also the unmistakable smell of stale coffee, damp and sweat, both familiar and unwelcomed. He took a breath through his nose to quell the wave of nausea that rose in the back of his throat. Strong odors had always had that effect on him, and did his best to ignore his roiling gut as he took his seat before the assembled jury of his peers.

The men lined up in front of him were tasked with finding a punishment to fit his crime. They were no stranger to the accused, and he didn't need to read their ID tags to learn of their names and rank in the hospital hierarchy. Not friends but rather colleagues thrown together by happenstance, he'd made it a rule to keep them all at arm's length. In his opinion they were a bunch of time wasters who preferred to gossip about hospital politics and the latest bed hopping scandal then discuss the lead article in that month's Lancet or BMJ.

Greyson Garber was the biggest gossip of all, a political animal who thrived on power and adulation. He sat across from the defendant, appointed lead inquisitor and judge. A thin smile played on his lips as he thought of his good fortune. He'd jumped at the chance to take down the arrogant GP and former surgeon, payback for years of snide remarks on how he treated patients and ran his department.

Garber glanced at the two men sitting next to him. Time to get started. They all turned their attention to the files laid out in front of them as Garber said, "Please state your name."

"Don't be ridiculous. You know my name," retorted the man seated in the lonely chair, color rising above his shirt collar.

"For the record."

"Dr. Martin Ellingham," he answered tersely. London born, breed and educated, he considered himself above this lot and for good reason – how many times had he set right an incorrect diagnosis delivered by one of these idiots? It was a minor miracle not more patients died from their blatant incompetence. He wanted to lash out, tell them what he thought of them and their stupid hearing. But he had promised to keep his temper in check and a civil tongue in his head. It wouldn't do to let his composure slip, at least not so early in the game

"Thank you for joining us," said Garber.

"I understand it wasn't an option," answered Martin.

"No, it wasn't." Garber had expected the hot-headed Ellingham to have lashed out by now. Well, there was time enough for that, and he set aside his disappointment as he introduced the men sitting next to him.

"I assume you know Drs. Bray and Swain? They represent the department of medicine," said Garber turning to his colleagues, "and I, as you know, represent the department of surgery. Fitting, as your egregious conduct took place on my turf."

Martin sneered but was able to keep quiet the few choice words that leapt to his mind. His turf? Garber couldn't manage his way out of a paper bag, let alone run a surgical department. His ruminations were thankfully interrupted by Bray chiming in. "Sorry it's us and not Parsons mate. The higher ups didn't take to him on the panel, being your boss and all." A diminutive man with a beard and spectacles that make him look like an owl, he was the sole GP for the village of St. Ives. He was a passable medic with a penchant for drink and horses. The villagers knew to look for him at the pub where he'd take a break from the lager and races to perform examinations in a back room where he kept a few tools of his trade. Martin had been horrified when he'd found out of Bray's pub consultations and had felt duty bound to report back his boss and chief of medicine. Chris Parsons was also a former med school class mate and, as many would say, Martin's one and only friend.

Garber threw a warning look at Bray. He was in charge and wouldn't let these two lowly GP's take over the proceedings. "I'm sure Dr. Ellingham understands why Dr. Parsons was asked to recuse himself. Now, let's go over the policy and procedures, as required by the hospital bylaws. Section one…" Garber droned on while Martin's thoughts wandered to the events of the previous few days.

The past week had been memorable in the same way disasters were memorable. Chris had dropped in to tell him about the hearing which was shortly followed by his wife leaving Portwenn with their son. One had nothing to do with the other, at least not directly. Louisa had decided to leave before the operating theater debacle, convinced she needed time away from Martin. He didn't see how being apart would solve anything, and he's said so much but her mind had been made up. She'd left the same day Chris had put him on notice, an uncomfortable conversation with his boss followed by an even more uncomfortable car ride to Newquay airport with his wife and son.

"There's not much I can do to protect you this time," Chris had said, pacing the confines of the consulting room. Martin had sat at his desk, signing off on a stack of prescriptions refills.

"Can you stop doing that and pay attention?" said Chris, coming to a standstill.

"I am paying attention." Martin put down his pen. "Better?"

"It would have been better if you hadn't done what you did."

"You mean stand by while that idiot operated on my wife?"

"You should have been taken your concern to the chief of vascular. Locking up the attending surgeon in a supply closet was not the way to handle the situation."

"There was no time. And anyhow, you know perfectly well I'm qualified to perform an AVM repair. I was a vascular surgeon…"

"Was!" Chris nearly shouted.

Martin shushed him. "Not so loud. The baby's napping."

Chris dropped his voice to a loud whisper. "Do I need to remind you that you're no longer a surgeon? You don't have theater privileges at the Royal Cornwall or anywhere else for that matter." The two men stared at each other, tension filling the silence between them. Chris, the jovial counterpart to Martin's abrasive and cankerous nature, was good at smoothing bruised egos and outraged patients but this was different. This was a transgression even he, as chief of medicine, could not sweep under the rug. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in?"

"Not as much trouble as I am with Louisa," Martin had wanted to say. But he hadn't, just as he couldn't stop her from getting on that plane to Spain with his son.

Martin picked up his pen and continued to sign scripts, his brow furrowed. Chris saw this as it was meant- a clear dismissal - but stayed seated. "She'll go and then she'll be back," he said quietly.

Martin's pen came to a standstill. "I think you should leave." Chris made to stand but stopped when he saw the anguish in Martin's eyes. He hadn't seen him like this since the days following the catastrophic onset of his blood phobia, a blow that had brought the unshakable surgeon to his knees. The blood phobia had never fully resolved, but he'd learned to live with it. Louisa was another matter altogether and Chris suspected the upcoming hearing would take second place to Martin's fear of losing his wife.

The department couldn't afford to lose the best GP they'd ever had, and Chris tried to find the words that would make Martin care about the outcome of the hearing. "Look Mart, we need you and you need this job. Promise me you'll keep it together. No outbursts. No name calling." Chris waited for an answer but Martin remained silent. "Right. I'll let myself out."

He left Martin sitting at his desk, pen in hand but with a stack of prescriptions ignored at his side.


	2. Chapter 2

This story is set at the end of Series 6

The Hearing

Chapter 2

"Dr. Ellingham! Are you with us?" He blinked to find himself back in the dingy meeting room, three sets of eyes trained on him. Garber must have asked something of him, but he wasn't about to improvise a response. What he'd learned early in life was that silence was the best defense, and he readily fell back into old habits.

"Let me repeat the question. Do you agree with the version of the events that brought you before this panel today?"

He'd barely listened as Garber read verbatim from the incident report submitted by the charge nurse on duty that day. Parsons had emailed him a copy, and he'd carefully read through the document, finding it concise and without omissions or errors. But nurse's account had left out what no one could see – the struggle to suppress a burgeoning panic attack, the scalpel laying heavy in his gloved hand; the exhilaration of saving his wife's life followed by the realization it wasn't going to be enough. He had the skills to fix a leaky blood vessel but not all that what was wrong between them.

"Do you have anything to add?" asked Garber, relieved Martin wasn't going to contest the panel's report.

Martin didn't hesitate. "I'd do it again."

"Excuse me?" Garber said, incredulous.

"I'd do it again if it meant saving a life."

"We have perfectly good surgeons on staff who save lives on a daily basis."

"I disagree. Your surgeons are poorly trained and even more poorly supervised."

Garber jumped out of his seat, fist clenched at his side. "You're the one under investigation, Ellingham, not my department. You broke every rule in the book, and not for the first time. Operating without a proper license or theater privileges is bad enough. But on your wife? Treating family is not only a breach of every rule in the book but reckless. You acted with disregard not only for your wife's safety but the staff and hospital. What if it had all gone to hell, Ellingham? What then?"

Bray and Swain stared at Garber, open-mouthed. The head of surgery might be a prig, but he was an unshakeable prig who kept his cool even when meetings became a tossing ground for personal insults. Ellingham had achieved what no one else had, but there was no show of victory on the GP's part. Instead, his expression remained impassive as he recalled Chris's plea for restraint. A little too late for that, thought Martin.

Garber sat down, realizing he'd overstepped the mark. He composed himself before saying, "Ellingham, please step out. We'll call you back once we've reached a decision."

Dismissed, Martin made for the door, shutting it softly behind him. There had been nothing to add, at least nothing that wouldn't make things worse. He leaned against the door, overtaken with bone-aching exhaustion. Sleep had been elusive, his nights filled with silent recriminations. The days had been no better with patients prodding him for information on Louisa's whereabouts. "None of your damn business," he'd snapped to no avail. There was no keeping the vultures away.

A group of registrars walked by and his name was said in a loud whisper as they rounded a corner. Martin's disciplinary hearing was prime fodder for the hospital's prodigious gossip mill, an opportunity to see the great Ellingham fall. To hell with all them, he thought but at the same time moved out of the way to a secluded corner near a window. Below was one of the many carparks bordering the hospital and he watched as a few cars drove away, followed by many more. With a start, he realized it was coming upon five o'clock. Louisa's plane should have landed by now, and he took out his phone to see if she'd rung. The screen showed no recent calls or messages, and he slipped it back into his pocket with a sigh.

He heard footsteps behind him and turned, expecting to see a member of the panel come to fetch him. "Ellingham? What are you doing here?" Edith Montgomery, former med school classmate, and fiancée stood a few feet away. He instinctively took a step back and nearly stumbled when his foot hit the edge of the wall.

"Steady on, Ellingham. You can't be that surprised to see me. I work here, remember?"

How could he forget– her name was plastered all over the hospital's website. She was a successful infertility expert, the star consultant in an otherwise lackluster stable of specialists. But he'd had no contact with Edith since his marriage, avoiding lectures or meeting where encounters were likely to happen.

He made to go around, but she stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Ellingham, wait." He glanced down at her hand, willing her to pull it away. What bad luck to run into Edith, today of all days.

"The disciplinary hearing." Understanding flashed across her face, followed by a grimace. "Bad luck, that."

"Yes." He said, brushing past her.

"She's not here? Your wife."

That slowed him down, but just for a moment. Under no circumstances would he discuss Louisa's whereabouts with Edith, and he resumed his race down the corridor. The men's toilets were a few yards away, and he had almost reached its relative safety when she said, "I'm leaving."

About time, he thought, about to push through the lav door. "I'm leaving Cornwall, Ellingham. England, if we want to be precise. Got an offer I couldn't turn down in Singapore. My own lab and infertile couples with lots of money."

Against his better judgment, he turned to face her. Memories of another time flashed across his mind; an engagement ring pressed into the palm of his hand as she turned down his earnest proposal. "I'm leaving, Ellingham. Places to be, places to see. Can't be tied down." The devastation had been complete, and even years later, he tasted the bitterness of her refusal.

"Goodbye and good luck," Martin finally said. To his surprise, her eyes glistened with unshed tears. He stood rooted in place, a part of him needing to know what she'd say next.

"It was a mistake, turning you down Ellingham. Guess it's too late now."

"Yes," Martin answered, relieved he felt no regret. He'd dodge a bullet with Edith, and though the situation with Louisa was less than ideal, it was better than a life of marital misery with Edith Montgomery.

"Ellingham?" Bray had come up behind Edith, flushed and tie askew. "We're ready for you."

"You better go," said Edith. Bray gave them both a quizzical look before heading back to the meeting, Martin at his heels. His encounter with Edith would be all over the hospital by morning, but he didn't care. She was leaving, and he'd been around long enough to know what was out of sight, was also out of mind. The rumors would die down soon enough, and he put Edith in the same bucket as the disciplinary hearing – a nuisance to be dealt with and then best forgotten.

Martin walked into the room as his phone pinged. He stopped to look at the screen, ignoring Garber's blustered objection. It was Louisa. We arrived safely. Will ring later, she wrote.

He took his seat, ready for anything the panel deemed fit to throw at him.

 _Many thanks to the readers who posted reviews for Chapter 1. My apologies for not responding personally to every posting, but please know I appreciate your thoughtful feedback._


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